Page 102 of Impenitent Claim

“Yes?” I finally whispered, unable to take the suspense a moment longer.

“So I was hoping this could be more of a first date—and I know we’ve screwed up the order! If we do more than kiss, I guess that’s fine too, but I want to know you, Ilya,” she said in a rush. “You know so much about me. I want to get to know you. So talking, eating, maybe a little kissing. Does that sound good to you?”

While she sounded nervous, I began to sweat. I hadn’t considered this. I thought she would see by my actions that I was sincere. That she could learn to trust me. And she did. We wouldn’t be at this point in our relationship if she didn’t.

But opening up to her?

I can do it.For her, I would bare my soul, gnarled, ugly, and scarred though it might be.

“Anything in particular that you’re hungry for?” I asked gruffly.

Relief washed through her voice. “Bring me somethingyouenjoy eating.”

Food was energy. I ate because once there was nothing to eat. What did I like?

Lemon tarts. I liked lemon tarts.Where the fuck does one find those?

“I’ll see you around two a.m.?” my little siren confirmed.

“I’ll be there,” I promised, because nothing short of Kingdom Come would stop me from answering her sweet call.

Chapter 39 – Isabella

The cold couldn’t touch me. Not really. Sure, the brisk, bright air brushed against my cheeks as I walked through the woods, a soft crunch of leaves sounding underfoot with each step. But the crispness of the night seemed to sharpen my senses, making everything feel more alive, more present. I was bundled up in a fitted athletic coat that kept me warm but gave my limbs the ability to move. With my scarf snug around my neck, the knit beanie I made tugged over my ears, and the insulated gloves, the chill in the air didn’t bite—it invigorated me, filling me with a quiet thrill. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

This was it.

This was the part where I told the villain I wanted to run away with him.

Anticipation built as I wondered for the hundredth time what Ilya brought. If this date was anything like the gifts, I knew already without a shadow of a doubt that it would be perfect. The fact that most of the guards were currently ill-disposed with a terrible bout of food poisoning, as were the don and his sister,made the night all the more perfect. There had been few souls to slip past, their focus on the front and entrances of the estate.

The forbidden nature of this evening wasn’t lost on me. I waited up, unable to snooze, as the blazing red harvest moon marched into the sky. Now, the silvery tones were once more restored, hanging like a Christmas ornament high on the deep navy tapestry. Drops of the ethereal glow fell through the bare branches, making the shadows below twist and dance. It wasn’t dark tonight, impossible for a spectre to hide in the gloom.

No, he would be there, waiting for me in the open.

The wind whispered softly through the trees, carrying the faintest clack of branches and the occasional rustle of a wild animal. They were the only sounds breaking the stillness.

Until a hand shot out, wrapping around my waist and making me squeak.

Leather clapped over my mouth, and hot air fanned over my throat. “None of that, rusalka. Our voices will carry on a night like tonight.”

I nodded, letting the spectre know I understood.

When he loosened his hold, I turned in Ilya’s arms. “Hi, phantom, you came.”

“Where else would I be? You called. I came.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. Did a smaller woman like me really have that kind of control over a huge, predatorial man like him?

“Come on, then.” His fingers slid into mine, and he guided me forward.

I realized why a moment later. There was camouflage fabric, complete with flapping leaves, fenced around several trees. It looked like a blind that hunters used—not that I knew from experience. Behind the fortress of deception were a multitude of electric candles, thick pillars of various sizes clumped together, with a gothic candelabra in the center of what could only bedescribed as the coziest picnic imaginable. There were pillows over a throw blanket. Thermoses—plural!—leaned against the wicker basket. Boldly colored berries on stems with greenery hung on the inside of the camouflage. It was nothing short of a fairy feast, ready to be indulged in to complete the harvest.

I felt Ilya’s gaze on me, watching my every move. I wasn’t prepared for the unguarded look in his eyes, the desperate way he stared at me.

He’s nervous.

Knowing the terrible phantom was capable of such emotions shattered all hesitation. I flung myself into his arms. “It’s beautiful, Ilya.”

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